It Was a Dark and Stormy Night
by Mez the evil Brit
Summary: A girl sees a young couple get caught with a flat in a storm.Ending is perhaps... not what you might expect.


General disclaimer: this is a parody of Rocky Horror and Mary Sue fics in general and is therefore a legitimate use of the Rocky Horror characters, which I do not own.

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Her mother's footsteps receded softly over the burbur carpet as the girl sat up beneath the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room was dark- the door was shut and the lights out- the window glowed faintly behind the breeze stirred curtains. Cautiously she stood, magenta blots lighting the blackness, as the dark blue cover slipped unheeded onto the well-worn mattress. Slowly, carefully, she glided through the familiar labyrinth that littered her floor, treading the avenues between the mounds of files, books, discarded clothes etc. over the downy whiteness of the carpet. The light clicked on, and swimming purple and black amoebas glissaded across her vision for the second time that night as her pupils raced to cope with the light bulb's radiance.

She sat down quickly and shielded her eyes. The air was warm and clammy to the touch. It resisted when she moved, but slid easily from her grasp. Perusing the numerous cartoons as she flipped through her diary, she alighted upon one of riffraff and magenta- her two idols of the rocky horror show. Sighing, she replaced the diary and studied the timetable for the following day- English- single, double geography- she was meant to be revising for a test on that tomorrow but she'd blag it as usual, Art- she'd better do that now- the teacher didn't like her and she was behind in class.

Replacing the timetable the girl set to work. Outside, a storm was growing; the steady tick of her clock was accompanied by the incessant patter of raindrops on the wooden shingles. A brief flash of lightening was visible though the half-closed curtains. Patiently folding paper- her art project was origami- the girl counted the seconds till the crash of thunder in an attempt to calculate the distance of the storm. She did not have to wait long.

Seven to twelve and her project was nearly finished. Lotus flowers of varying sizes were joined into a mat of colour. A debris of silver cranes, paper balloons and frogs that jumped were scattered on the floor around her. A car rumbled along the road in front of the elongated house she called home and spluttered to a halt as the minute hand climbed towards the twelve. As she mused as to who would be driving along the secluded forest track, an ear-splitting roll of thunder jolted her out of her daze- the storm was right overhead. Peering out of the window, she could see that the people in the car, a nerdy young man wearing glasses, and a pristine young woman in a obscenely sweet little dress and cardigan had got out and begun to walk towards the house, presumably to ask if they could use a phone. They hesitated by the lightening lit sign on the gate, put up by her father ever since they got the dog, but the subsequent thunder seemed to spur them on, and they walked up to the porch, the girl sheltering under a newspaper she had taken from the car.

The clock struck midnight and the girl moved to open the door downstairs. However, the people did not ring the bell and ask to use the phone so she returned to the window and continued to watch. Instead the woman fished inside her handbag and unearthed her mobile, checking for signal as she did so. As she dialled a number, the man moved further into the respite from the rain provided by the porch.

Twenty minutes later the AA arrived and towed the car, with the people in it, away. As the girl watched at the window, a line from the poem they had been studying in English that day ran through her head: "Nothing, like something, happens anywhere."

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed this, despite the abysmal author's notes. For everyone who asked to continue the story, I really appreciate the sentiment, but the purpose of the story was to show that sometimes things don't turn out the way we'd love them to- for every coach that broke down near the vampire's castle there's millions that made it to the safe country inn.


End file.
